Nothing's Fair in Love and War
by dancinginthesunlight
Summary: Whoever said that there was anything fair about love and/or war had clearly never met Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy. They were brought up despising each other, and all through Hogwarts that holds true. Until... Sometimes things are just complicated.RxS
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **_Don't own it._

PROLOGUE:

"Listen, Rose," my father said.

I had been five years old at the time, and he had just finished a recount of his adventures as a teenager against Lord Voldemort. As if I wouldn't get enough of that in boring History of Magic lectures later on at Hogwarts. (honestly, Professor Binns is _dead_, for Merlin's sake. You'd think he'd have retired by now -- He'd been teaching since my _parents_ had been at Hogwarts).

But, good little five-year-old that I was, I listened as my dad said, "Draco Malfoy was supporting V-Voldemort." My dad _still_ flinched every time he said Voldemort's name.

"I know that, daddy," I said.

"Right, well, he was bad."

"That's not what mommy said," I pointed out. "She said he was... he was..." I struggled for the word my mother, Hermione Granger in all her glory and knowledge, had used. "She said he was re-morse-ful," I sounded out the syllables. "She said he was sorry for what he did."

"She did, did she," my dad muttered. "Well, anyway, maybe he was sorry, but he was still bad."

I nodded, absorbing every word.

"And Draco Malfoy has a son now. His name is Scorpion -- or some other stupid name like that, I can't remember now. Anyway, his son -- Scorpio or whatever -- is probably bad too. Like father like son."

"Oh."

"And Scorpion is your age."

"Five!" I proudly held up five fingers.

"Right, Rosie. Now listen. When you grow up and go to Hogwarts--"

"That's the place you and mommy went to school, right?"

"Yes, Rose, that's where your mother and I went to school," my father was starting to get exasperated, he really only wanted to get his point across and be done with it.

"Good. I want to go there too."

"Right. Well, when you go to Hogwarts, Scorpion will be in your year."

"But he's bad!" I protested, as if it would do any good.

"Right, he's bad. And I want you to stay away from him, okay?"

I thought it over. "Okay!"

My dad would try to stamp it into my head that Scorpius Malfoy was a bad influence about a half billion times over the next six years, because once I started Hogwarts, it was up to my own instinct.

***

**A/N: **_Next chapter will be the train ride to Hogwarts for the first time, and then Rose's thoughts on the start of fifth year. Then with Chapter 2 I can hopefully finish up all this beginning stuff and get into the story._

_This _is _my first fic, so I'd love it if you'd review and tell me if it's good or not. I'm also making an attempt to follow canon, so please let me know if I make a mistake so that I can correct it._

_Anyway, I'm really looking forward to seeing where this goes – I have some parts of it planned out, but of course that's probably going to change soon, depending on how Rose and Scorpius develop -- I felt like this prologue wrote itself, and hopefully that happens with the rest of it._


	2. Beginnings

"And make sure you beat him on every test. Thank goodness you get your brains from your mother," my dad was saying.

I looked over at the boy he had pointed out. For an eleven-year-old, he was tall. I was a little surprised at his seemingly innocent features; the way my father had described him, you would think he'd had about seven warts and greasy hair (although Uncle Harry always reminds me that Severus Snape was good in the end, and he'd had the greasiest hair imaginable).

No, this boy did not resemble a hag in the slightest; his hair was clean and platinum blonde, he had clear -- albeit pale --skin, and his eyes were gray. Somehow, Scorpius's eyes seemed different than those of his father's, even though they were the exact same shade.

"Ron, don't turn them against each other before they've even started school!" My mother protested.

My dad sighed and said, "But don't get too friendly with him, Rose. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood," even though my Uncle Percy married a pureblood and Granddad let him live it down.

Well, come to think of it, Granddad and Uncle Percy always did seem a little edgy around each other...

"Well, we'd better board," my cousin James said, restless as ever.

I rolled my eyes; he probably just wanted to make fun of Teddy and Victoire snogging -- honestly, you'd think he'd never seen them together before, and it wasn't like they made their venues private.

On board the train, I pulled out the paperback my mother had sent with me -- some muggle book called Tuck Everlasting. If my cousins James and Fred were going to act like they did at home over the holidays, I'd need the distraction to keep my eyes from rolling out of their sockets.

"Aw, Rosie's reading again! She'll get into Ravenclaw if she's like that."

"Will not!" I protested indignantly. "I'm going to be a Gryffindor."

"Better Ravenclaw than Slytherin," James said seriously to Fred.

James and Fred were both third years and thoroughly enjoyed scaring Albus and I out of our wits about houses.

"Yeah," Fred said, catching on to James's joke. "If you were a Ravenclaw, Aunt Hermione would keep Uncle Ron from doing any serious damage. But I mean, as a Slytherin..."

"Uncle Ron might disown you," James finished.

"Or worse," Fred added.

My cousin Albus blanched. He had been worried about which house he'd be in since before he could walk.

"Albus," I told him quietly, while Fred and James laughed at their own humor. "You were named after Severus Snape. He was in Slytherin, and your dad always goes on about how he was such a great person. Who cares if you're in Slytherin? Besides the gits, I mean," I added, glancing sideways at Fred and James, who were currently discussing methods of sneaking firewhiskey onto the grounds of Hogwarts.

"That's exactly what my dad said," Albus said.

"It's alright. Besides, I bet you'll be in Gryffindor. You're the bravest person I know."

"Really, Rose?"

"Really," I said, smiling.

Albus looked much happier, and I took the oppurtunity to glance around the compartment.

As far as my cousins went, there were a lot of us. Victoire and Teddy (Teddy was really a Lupin, but he might as well have been family. Well, except that he was sort of dating Victoire...) were off somewhere, probably snogging the pants off each other.

Dominique and Louis -- the twins -- were seventh years. Dominique had managed to snag the Head Girl badge, and Louis was a prefect, so they were enjoying their time in the Prefects's cabin. Roxanne, Fred's sister, was also a seventh year, but was sitting with some friends, as were Molly (6th Year) and Lucy (5th Year). That just left James and Fred, third years, and Albus and I, first years. My cousin -- and Albus's and James's sister, Lily, would be starting at Hogwarts next year, and in two years my own brother, Hugo, would start.

Hours passed, and I was enjoying reading about Jesse telling Winnie about the special powers of the pool, when James ripped the book out of my hands.

"We're changing into our robes," he announced, holding the door open. "Out."

"All right, all right," I mumbled, grabbing my book and leaving the compartment. Sometimes, being the only girl was a right pain in the a-- I mean, neck.

Out in the hallway, I opened Tuck Everlasting again and sat down on the ground.

I was really getting into the story, when I heard someone saying, "You really have no friends?"

Agitated, I put the book down and looked up into the face of the boy I knew was Scorpius Malfoy.

"Excuse me?"

"You're sitting all alone out here because you have no friends to sit with?"

"I have friends," I said, keeping the 'and they also all happen to be related to me' silent.

"Where are they?" he made a big show of looking down the empty hallway. "Right. Nowhere. Are these friends imaginary?" he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"I'm eleven; I'm too old for imaginary friends."

"Right," he said, but it was clear from his tone that he was doubtful.

"Nice to meet you too," I muttered, ignoring his taunting tone. "I'm Rose Weasley."

He rolled his eyes at me. "I'm Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy." Then, in a different tone, he added, "And of course you're a Weasley. My grandfather said all you Weasleys have a billion children, red hair, and freckles."

He was wrong -- my hair wasn't my dad's flaming red, it was auburn, and my brother's hair was completely brown. Not to mention all the cousins.

"Yes, but wasn't your grandfather also a Death Eater?" I asked, recalling my father's stories -- or rather, the parts of my father's stories that had been deemed true by my mother. My dad had a knack for making himself the hero.

Scorpius Malfoy didn't back down, like I had expected him to. Instead, he smirked and said, "Yes, but wasn't _your_ mother a mudblood?"

I felt my mouth drop open; my parents had assured me that the old prejudices no longer existed. "Don't call my mother a--"

Scorpius laughed, turned on his heel, and left.

***

Needless to say, the next few years followed with minimal contact between Scorpius and I. It was an unspoken rule that I avoided him and he avoided me, and all of our teachers had learned quickly not to pair us together; the results hadn't been good.

A disastrous Potions lesson had ended with the two of us in the hospital wing (much to Madam Pomfrey's discontent), and Slughorn taking off twenty points each from Gryffindor (for me), Slytherin (for Malfoy), and Hufflepuff (for Ricky Kasser, the git who had the idea to mix beetle-eyes with essence of dittany, causing the cauldron to overflow in the first place).

In Transfiguration, Scorpius and I got a little too competitive over who could turn a match into a needle first, and our good friend Ricky Kasser ended up with twenty sharp needles stuck in his hand, which got him sent to the hospital wing, and Scorpius and I each had ten points deducted from our respective houses.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Kessem witnessed what she claimed to be the worst duel she'd ever seen between two first years. While she didn't take off any points ("How could I, when you both mastered those hexes better than any first year I've ever seen?"), we did end up in the hospital wing for a week each.

A second year Astronomy lesson ended with three broken telescopes and ten points from Slytherin.

I didn't get long to bask in the glory of Malfoy losing more points than me, because Professor Longbottom took off fifteen points in herbology because I poked holes in Malfoy's earmuffs so that the Mandrakes we were repotting would knock him out. Professor Longbottom did admit that it was funny, but took the points off anyway.

Hagrid would never take any points off of the daughter of Hermione Granger, but I might have had a hand in setting a Red Cap on him, and both Hagrid and Scorpius yelled at me for a combined half hour about how dangerous it was.

Eventually, each of our teachers learned to keep us apart, and I was blissfully ignorant of the arrogant Slytherin...

Up until fifth year, that is.

***

After the start of term feast, I was staring out the window of Gryffindor Tower.

My dormitory happened to be on the very top of the tower, and the small window provided a view of the lake, and beyond it, the Forbidden Forest.

To say I wasn't a rule-breaker would be incorrect. The truth of the matter was that I broke rules frequently. I was just good at not getting caught. Even so, I had only ever been in the Forbidden Forest twice.

The first time was for a Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

The second was on a dare.

Call it stupid, call it hypocritical to claim to not be carelessly foolish and then take a dare, but Ricky Kasser (whom I was coming to know and hate) had bet me ten galleons that I wouldn't do it.

It was too good an offer to miss. The forest was thin towards the edges, so for the first few minutes of walking I could still see the dwindling rays of sunlight. Behind me, the sky was a hazy blend of orange and red, the sun sinking lower and lower as I walked.

And then, out of nowhere, I heard the crunching leaves and rapid footsteps behind me.

I was smart enough not to scream, so I did what Professor Kessem had trained me to do, I drew my wand and whirled around to face my attacker.

Only, it wasn't an attacker. Unless it was some sort of disfigured cross between a Kneazle and a niffler, it looked like a wolf – its solid appearance and calm demeanor the only indication that it was not a werewolf nor a Patronus someone had sent.

I probably should have been scared, but between expecting first some kind of beast and then some kind of savior, the animal looked a little helpless.

The wolf looked back up at me and met my gaze, then focused its attention on the black sky behind me. Then it jerked its head back down the path.

I took the hint and left.

Even though I had won the bet, I never told anyone about the wolf. I have no idea why; it just seemed strange that what most muggles -- and even some wizards -- would see as a threatening creature had looked so... innocent.

And the way it managed to communicate, almost as though it understood human actions.

Which just goes to prove my theory that animals are just as smart as -- if not smarter than -- humans.

"Rose!" I tore my eyes away from the window and snapped out of my reverie.

"Hi," I greeted my best friend, Marissa Gold, with a smile.

"Professor McGonagall wanted you for something."

"Did she say what for?" I asked. I thought back to the last misdemeanor I had committed -- sneaking down to the kitchens to snag some food from the house-elves late at night... but that was at the end of last year. It couldn't possibly be worth a trip to McGonagall's office three months later, could it? And besides, taking food from the kitchens wasn't even worthy of punishment, was it? And I hadn't been caught, had I?

Horrible thoughts raced through my head as I walked down toward McGonagall's office. What if something had happened to my parents? What if Voldemort had risen from the grave? What if…

I finally reached the headmistress's office. The stone gargoyle jumped to the side without a password. I wasn't sure whether to take it as a good or bad sign.

***

**A/N:** _So now we know how Scorpius turned out – in Rose's opinion, he holds true to Ron's labeling. Obnoxious, conceited… and trust me, it will probably all get worse as they get older._

_So, again, review, please! And I'd like to know if anyone knows about this wolf – I've already said that it's not a Patronus and not a Werewolf. It _does _have a significance to the story, though, and I'm wondering if anyone can guess. Granted, we don't know much about it and we really aren't very far in, but some of you might have very good guessing ability… :-)_

_And why is Rose getting called to McGonagall's office? Any guesses?_

_Until next time…_


	3. Meetings

"Ah, Rose, come in!" Professor McGonagall called.

I pushed open the door and had to do a double-take to register what I was seeing.

Across from Professor McGonagall's desk where two people: my brother, Hugo, and Scorpius Malfoy.

Now, I wasn't sure which surprised me more; that my brother was in McGonagall's office, because he _never _breaks rules, or that he was sitting there next to Scorpius Malfoy.

"Rose, have a seat," McGonagall said, and I slowly sank into the chair she indicated.

"Professor—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Don't worry, Rose, your brother isn't in trouble," McGonagall said, even though that was one of the few things that _wasn't_ on my mind. "I was just explaining to Mr. Malfoy here," I could have sworn she shot him a dirty look, "That it is completely inappropriate to call other students' parents… inappropriate names."

"I called his mum a mudblood, it's not like the little tattletale didn't deserve it—"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. She shook her head slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly fighting a coming headache. "I should have hoped," she said slowly, "That the old prejudices that your parents held against each other more than twenty years ago would have disappeared by now." She sighed. "I guess I was wrong."

Professor McGonagall adjusted her hat as she said, "Hugo, you can go back to Gryffindor Tower."

Hugo, not being one to argue with a teacher (I swear, he was worse than my mother!), left quickly, casting a nervous glance in my direction.

"I know that you two might not be… friends," she started, "But that is still no grounds to verbally – and from what Professor Kessem, Professor Sinistra, and Professor Slughorn tell me, physically – abuse each other."

Malfoy and I started shouting at once.

"—Just because I said his dad was a Death Eater –"

"—So I called her mum a mudblood—"

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley, please, a parent's actions have _nothing _to do with their children's behavior. 'Mudblood' is an offensive term that I _never _want to hear inside these schools again. And Miss Weasley, insisting that someone was a Death Eater is—"

I wasn't going to let go that easily. My father had taught me almost everything I knew about the war against Voldemort, and I knew some of the things Draco Malfoy had done.

"Professor, his dad helped Snape murder Dumbledore!"

"Miss Weasley, Snape was under orders from Dumbledore himself to –"

"Yes, I know, Snape's all fine and good and whatever else Uncle Harry claims he is, but that doesn't mean Malfoy's dad was. He was helping other Death Eaters into the school, wasn't he? He let _Fenrir Greyback_ into the school. You know, Fenrir Greyback who attacked my Uncle Bill?"

Professor McGonagall cut into my rant. "Miss Weasley, please. I am quite aware about your – negative – feelings toward Mr. Malfoy—"

"That's an understatement," I muttered. Professor McGonagall ignored the interruption.

"And I am equally aware of Mr. Malfoy's negative feelings toward you, which is why I am proposing that you two complete an extra credit assignment. Together."

"Professor," Malfoy spoke up, "I have straight O's. I don't need any extra credit."

I doubted that someone as dimwitted as Malfoy could possibly have straight O's. I was always up to my neck in homework just to achieve such high marks; I doubted Malfoy would ever want to.

"I'm afraid this isn't optional. Turn in the assignment – and work _together _on it – or you will be forced to repeat fifth year."

"But—" I protested.

"Are you even allowed to do that?" Malfoy asked.

"I am very well allowed to do that. I am far too tired of taking care of students holding grudges that their parents need to learn to overcome. Research project on the events of the Dividing War, working _together_, or you're both going to retake fifth year."

She pointed at the door, a look of utter seriousness impressed upon her face.

***

The first day of classes was going well. I had managed to avoid Scorpius all day, and the Great Hall indicated clear skies, perfect weather for sitting outside under the large shady tree by the lake while I attempted to lessen the massive pile of homework I had already acquired.

I climbed up the ladder to Professor Trelawney's tower and entered the stuffy classroom, and quickly corrected my previous statement. The first day of classes had been going well, until Divination.

While my mother had always seen Divination as a pointless class, I wasn't one to cause a scene by dropping lessons, so I was stuck in Trelawney's hazy room for the next hour.

And, apparently, Professor Trelawney had decided that now was the time for assigned seating.

I mean, honestly, we were fifteen years old, for Merlin's sake. We were far too old for assigned seats.

I had stopped suddenly and Marissa bumped into me from behind.

"What?" she asked.

I just pointed at one of the tables.

"Assigned seating? She has _got _to be kidding."

"Don't worry," I told Marissa. "You haven't got it too bad." I pointed at the card bearing my name, Rose Weasley, lying next to its deskmate's card, bearing the words, "Scorpius Malfoy."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Marissa said. "That must be awful."

"I honestly think I'm going to be sick."

"Class, please take your seats!" Professor Trelawney called out in her husky tone. "Just yesterday, I had a vision in which Mr. Malfoy was killed in a terrible accident."

I rolled my eyes as I sat down next to the supposedly-murdered Malfoy. Maybe, for once in a lifetime (or, as Uncle Harry tells me, the third time in a lifetime), Professor Trelawney would make an accurate prediction. Well, I could hope, at any rate.

"Not wanting to tempt fate," Trelawney continued, "I probed my crystal ball for a solution, because Mr. Malfoy has escaped death several times in the past," she droned on.

Uncle Harry said that every year Professor Trelawney chose a student whose death would be predicted at least once a lesson for the duration of the year. Since Uncle Harry and my parents had, technically, saved her life, Al and I were spared. Instead, the lucky privilege had fallen on Malfoy.

"So, for today's lesson, you're going to be interpreting dreams," Professor Trelawney announced dramatically. "Open your books to page 93, and begin with the partners I have assigned."

I turned to face Malfoy. If I was going to be forced to work with him, I might as well be diplomatic about it.

"Do you want to go first, or should I?" I asked.

"I'll go," Scorpius said. "For the past week, I've been having dreams involving you lying naked on the beach, alone except for with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Funny," I said dryly. "That probably indicates some kind of psychiatric disorder that you really should have checked out."

"Weasley," Malfoy said, "It's not my fault that you're secretly wishing you could hook up with me –"

I gagged as a reflex.

"Look, Malfoy," I snapped. "I _don't_ want to sit next to you in Divination. I don't want to work with you on McGonagall's extra credit assignment. And I _definitely_ don't like you. So please, spare me the nausea, and at least _pretend_ to be amiable."

"Amiable," Malfoy repeated, eyebrows raised. "Big word."

"Scorpius," I said, mocking his tone, "Big head."

"Ego," he corrected. "My head is normal sized, thank you."

And then Scorpius Malfoy did something I never would have expected.

He apologized.

"Look," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I'm sorry if I offended you, okay? Let's just get this project over with so we can forget about the Dividing War and make it to sixth year."

As he said 'forget about the Dividing War,' I saw something in his eyes change. I tried to figure out what it was as Professor Trelawney started droning on about something else.

And then I realized.

It was longing.

**A/N:** _Okay, next chapter done. Thanks to everyone for all the AMAZING comments! Let's see if we can do some more?_

_I like the view of Scorpius portrayed in the end of this chapter – still obnoxious and conceited, but also self-loathing; he hates the stereotypes he is assumed to have because of his surname._

_And, of course, Rose can play at his sarcasm game. And did any of you notice how she *had* to put in something about how she "definitely doesn't like" Malfoy? Couldn't she have let it go? Is something happening in her subconscious?_

_Or does she really not like Malfoy?_

_Anyway, I'll try to update again by next week, but I have a ton of homework to do this weekend, so I don't know if I can, but I'll attempt it!_


	4. Potions

I had the strange feeling that someone was watching me, but Professor Sterling interrupted my train of thought.

"Miss Weasley, veritaserum."

"Veritaserum," I repeated, "A powerful truth potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth and admit even their darkest secrets. Only a few drops are necessary for the potion to work and overdose can cause dangerous side effects."

"Excellent," Professor Sterling said. "Take five points for Gryffindor. Mr. Malfoy, Essence of Dittany."

There was no response.

"Mr. Malfoy!" he repeated.

"Yes, sir?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I asked you to please explain the qualities and attributes of Essence of Dittany?"

"Right, Professor, sorry. Essence of Dittany heals wounds and is extremely effective in repairing injuries caused by splinching during apparition..." he rattled off his response.

I couldn't fathom why Malfoy wasn't paying attention in class; although we were sworn rivals, he was the only one who had ever come close to my scores on tests. He was probably too busy staring at his reflection in a mirror or something, I decided.

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy, but next time, please try to focus and answer the first time I ask the question. Mr. Conwells, Wolfsbane, please."

I smiled to myself, glad that Malfoy didn't merit any points.

And again, I felt like someone was staring at me. I turned around to catch a pair of grey eyes looking back.

"Is there something stuck in my hair?" I whispered, wondering why Malfoy would be looking so intently at the back of my head. I reached a hand up and felt my ponytail – nothing.

Malfoy just shook his head and looked away. _Weird_.

"Today, class, we're going to be brewing amortentia," Professor Sterling announced. "In partners."

Marissa and I had already started setting up a cauldron when Professor Sterling added, "Miss Weasley, Professor McGonagall has given me specific instructions that you and Malfoy are to work together on every assignment."

"What?"

That _definitely_ hadn't been part of the terms McGonagall had established. At least, not while Malfoy and I had been in her office.

"It's McGonagall's orders, not mine."

I picked up my materials and moved back a row to sit next to Malfoy. Marissa, who ended up working with Malfoy's mate Todd Richards, turned around to give me a pitying look, which I returned, although not as strongly. Malfoy was much worse than Richards.

Thirty minutes later our potion was complete and I had managed to survive by talking to Malfoy only when necessary. Since "pass the roots," and "I'll stir," were the only words that had passed between us so far, I was mildly surprised when he asked, "So what does it smell like to you?"

I leaned forward over the cauldron and inhaled. "Vanilla," I said immediately, recognizing the scent. "Melting candles, and coconut, and…" I took another deep breath. "Something else… I can't tell what it is." I shrugged, but I was a little put-off that I couldn't recognize the last scent. "What about you?"

Malfoy bit his lip as though he was debating about something, then took a whiff of the amortentia.

"Cinnamon, and the Quidditch pitch, and something… I think raspberries?" the last one came out as a question. For some reason, it agitated me, although why I should care about whether or not Scorpius Malfoy liked raspberries was beyond me.

As Professor Sterling dismissed class, I grabbed my bags and left. I was all the way back up in Gryffindor tower by the time I realized what was bothering me.

I used raspberry shampoo.

_It doesn't mean anything_, I told myself. Just because he liked raspberries didn't mean he liked—

No, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what the last scent was, but to no avail.

***

Divination the next day was hell.

For some reason, Malfoy refused to talk to me and Marissa was too far away to pass notes, so I was forced to sit quietly and try to look like I was paying attention.

My thoughts drifted back to the mystery scent.

It was sort of like pine, but not exactly. Sort of like different spices my mother used to use in her cooking. And a little bit like the Quidditch pitch, which put me off a little because Malfoy had also mentioned liking the Quidditch pitch.

I liked the outdoors, I reasoned. That was all, it explained the pine and the Quidditch pitch. It had nothing to do with Malfoy.

Actually, I could almost smell it right now.

So it had nothing to do with –

The realization hit me and I felt my stomach tie itself in a knot. Under my breath, I let out an impressive string of expletives.

No, there was no way…

"Weasley?"

No. No. No.

"Weasley," Malfoy whispered again. "You look kind of… green."

No. No. I hated him. I really, truly, hated him.

Which didn't explain why my heart was about to explode out of my chest from beating so fast.

Or why I couldn't look him in the eye.

Or why I really, really needed to get out of the Divination tower.

Or why Malfoy smelled like my amortentia potion.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

And it also didn't explain why my vision was slowly fading, and everything was going black.

***

"Look – she's moving!"

"Oh my God, Rose, are you okay?"

I blinked a few times, trying to sort out all the voices. I was lying in bed.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was all a dream; I must have had a little too much sugar last night. And I mean, of course it was ridiculous. The whole amortentia thing – I would _never_ fancy Malfoy. Just the thought made me gag.

Once I was past the initial relief of having woken up from the nightmare, more things began to register. I had a throbbing headache, my best friend and my brother seemed to be overly concerned with my well-being –

Wait. How did my brother get into the girls' dormitory? Weren't boys unable to enter it? And why was all the bedding a bland white color?

I wasn't in my dormitory. I was in the hospital wing.

"Rose! Rose, are you okay?"

"I think so," I answered Marissa, moving to sit up. The sudden motion sent the blood rushing to my head and I felt an oncoming wave of vertigo. "No."

I lay back down. "What… happened?"

"We were in Divination—" Marissa started.

"I remember that part."

"And then… you collapsed on your desk. Malfoy dragged you all the way down here. Professor Trelawney was freaking out about how the planets hadn't warned her or some other nonsense like that…" she rambled on.

"Wait – _Malfoy_ carried me down here?"

"Yeah. He's actually really strong, apparently."

I swore under my breath.

"Um, Rose? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes. "I'm fine."

Okay. Just because we had been in Divination didn't mean that Malfoy and the amortentia thing was true. I mean, I didn't _smell _people on a regular basis, the fumes in Professor Trelawney's smoky classroom were probably just getting to my head. I had collapsed out of heat exhaustion and imagined that Malfoy smelled like my amortentia potion… it was probably just my subconscious getting back at me for forgetting to study for Transfiguration.

See? There was a logical explanation for everything.

Everything, that is, except for Scorpius Malfoy, who decided that that was the time to walk over to the hospital bed, smirk at me, and say, "Feeling a little faint, Weasley?"

As Madam Pomfrey opened the window of the hospital wing a little, a small breeze blew into the classroom, ruffling Malfoy's hair and blowing on my face, carrying with it the scent of my amortentia potion, the scent of Malfoy, the scent of pine and the Quidditch pitch and spices.

No. Bloody. Way.

***

**A/N: **_Okay, well, I had to do the whole amortentia thing; it was just too much fun to write. I know it's been overdone, but don't worry, I'll be more original later… _

_I'm sure a lot of you think I ruined my own story by having Malfoy smell Rose's raspberry shampoo, and Rose smell Malfoy, but allow me to explain, please._

_Amortentia does not give away what a person loves; it gives away what a person is attracted to. So, it doesn't mean Rose is in love with Malfoy, it means she's attracted to his scent, which is different. I mean, she still thinks he's a hideous person, which is why she overreacts when she concludes that she might have a crush on Malfoy. She hates him, why would she be _attracted _to him? Anyway, the point is, she doesn't actually like Malfoy, or at least not yet. She just thinks he smells nice, but of course, the idea that she might possibly be attracted to him kinda freaks her out._

_I'll let you all decide what Malfoy thinks of her._

_And I know, I know, I said I would update within a week and it's been eight days, but don't shoot me, please!_

_Also, I'd like to thank everyone for all the amazing reviews: keep them coming, please! _


	5. Reasons

There are reasons for a lot of things.

There are reasons for gravity and for inertia and for other aspects of science in general.

There are reasons for rainy days and for flowers and for other aspects of sappy romances.

There are reasons for math and common sense and for other aspects of logic.

There are reasons for a lot of things, but no matter how I looked at it, I couldn't come up with a single reason for me being _attracted _to Scorpius Malfoy.

Science (or at least the magical kind) dictated that my amortentia potion shouldn't have smelled like someone I despised.

Romance dictated that I shouldn't fall for someone I'd barely even talked to.

Logic dictated that I shouldn't be attracted to someone I'd hated since I could walk. Logic dictated that I shouldn't be attracted to the most obnoxious boy in my year.

No matter which way I looked at it, logically or scientifically or romantically or whatever, I couldn't see any reason for me to be _attracted _to Scorpius Malfoy.

So, clearly, my amortentia potion must have been brewed wrong. But then, that made a flaw in my scientific reasoning. Which meant that the logical and romantic views were wrong too. Which meant that…

No. I wasn't going to think about it. I didn't fancy Malfoy and that was all that mattered.

But it proved to be incredibly difficult not to think about someone, when that said person was sitting across from you at a table in the library.

There were reasons you don't call names, and this was one of them. If Malfoy hadn't called Hugo a mudblood, I would never have been called to the office to see my brother and would never have called Malfoy a Death Eater's son. And then I would never have ended up sitting next to him in divination or brewing amortentia with him and I would never have had to worry that I could be attracted to him.

Also, I'd never have to work on this stupid project.

"Weasley!" Malfoy repeated for what must have been the third or fourth time, but I'd been too busy focusing on circular logic to pay much attention to him.

"What…?" I asked faintly.

"Merlin, how hard did you hit your head? I asked if you wanted to go first or if I should."

It took me a second to remember that I _had _hit my head, and that yesterday when Madam Pomfrey let me out she told me that it might throb a little. I reached up to touch my head before I remembered that there wasn't any mark and spent another three seconds glaring at Malfoy's smirk.

"I'll go," I muttered. We had agreed to share each other's points of view about the Dividing War before beginning the actual research. It felt strange to agree on something with Malfoy, but I'd rarely ever talked to him before, except to shout the occasional insult, so it felt strange just to be having a normal conversation with him.

"Well, I grew up with my mum and dad telling me all the stories about their school years, and of course the Dividing War was one of them, so of course I heard about how everything happened…" I explained, continuing on to tell him about the finer points of the story.

The whole time, Malfoy sat there leaning back in his chair with the self-assured smirk on his face. I kept glancing up at him, especially when I would mention his family – his father had tried to murder Dumbledore, his father had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, his father had been helping Voldemort the whole time – but Malfoy's face never showed any sign of disbelief. He never showed weakness.

When I finally finished, Malfoy sighed. "You're in for a shock."

"Gee," I said sarcastically, "Why would I be shocked by a Malfoy's interpretation of the Dividing War? Oh yeah, maybe it's just that _your dad and my parents were complete enemies_."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Malfoy whipped his wand out and pointed it at me. Instinctively, I stood up and backed away, and then I froze, both because I didn't want to provoke Malfoy to hit me with any curses and because I honestly couldn't bring myself to draw my own wand and inflict serious damage on Malfoy. No matter how much I hated him, I didn't want to be responsible for sending him to the hospital wing yet again.

"I wish people would stop judging me based on my surname," he said sharply, jabbing his wand against my collar-bone. "I wish people would stop telling me that I'm 'just like my father' when I'm in trouble, or that I'm 'surprising them considering I'm a Malfoy and all.' I'm sick and tired of people expecting me to be exactly like my bloody father!"

With that last sentence, a jet of sparks flew out of the tip of his wand, scorching my throat. About a second later, Malfoy seemed to realize what he'd done, because he pulled his wand back.

"Sorry," he said, sitting down again. "I just… I—"

"Don't like being judged based on your name?"

"Well, yeah. But I mean, you must hate it too. Always being known for your parents, not for anything you do…"

I subconsciously reached up to touch the area on my neck where the sparks had hit. The skin still felt warm.

"At least my parents are the good guys."

I half expected him to jump up and threaten me with his wand again, but he didn't. He didn't shout at me, didn't swear, didn't do any of the million things I would have expected him to.

Malfoy sat there silently, his arms folded across his chest, his lips twisted into an ironic smile.

"Yeah," he said, "Your parents are the good guys."

As he picked up his books and walked quickly out of the library, I couldn't help but think that I didn't know Scorpius Malfoy at all.

There were reasons I had avoided Malfoy for years, reasons I had barely ever talked to him, and I was sure that there were reasons that he made fun of me and smirked the way he did.

There were reasons for a lot of things.

But as my feet pounded against the hard stone of the interior of the Hogwarts Castle, I couldn't come up with a single reason for following Scorpius Malfoy.

And for some reason, I didn't feel like I needed a reason.

**A/N: **_I really like this chapter. I know it's a lot more thought-based than most of the other ones, but I felt like it needed to happen._

_I mean, obviously, the biggest challenge standing between Rose and Scorpius is that they've been brought up to hate each other based on their families' prejudices, and they're going to have_

_Oh, and by the way, I am well aware that Scorpius never shared his story of the Dividing War (I skipped over Rose's, because it's pretty much the same as the Harry Potter books, but with Ron as the hero [of course]). You were supposed to notice that Scorpius didn't share. It was all part of the point…_

_Anyway, in other news, thanks for all the FABULOUS reviews. I actually had time to reply to some of them, so yay! :-)_

_And I would LOVE some more, they've been fabulous!_

_Again, another update is coming within the next week (7 days). I promise!_


	6. Emotions

"Scorpius?"

There was no answer and I was just about ready to give up. I had searched through the whole castle – even some of the passageways that James only knows about because of the map Uncle Harry gave him – and was now starting on the outside.

I passed the Quidditch Pitch and the lake without seeing anyone except a few Hufflepuff third years, and then I was standing outside Hagrid's cabin and staring at the Forbidden Forest.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something dart out of the forest towards Hogwarts, and the gray clouds finally broke open and rain poured out, but I didn't turn around. I just stood there debating over whether or not to break school rules and go into the forest.

Why was I even standing out there? So Malfoy had stormed out of the library; it didn't matter that much. I was used to completely ignoring Malfoy, or shouting at him, or watching James steal the snitch from him, but never _talking _to him.

I was used to being mad – sometimes even furious – with Malfoy. This was nothing new. It shouldn't have bothered me so much that I had made him mad and then couldn't find him.

So why was I standing out here in the rain?

"Rose."

I heard the cool, deep voice from behind me. How the hell had he gotten there without me even noticing?

"You're wet."

"Wow, really?" I snapped at him sarcastically. "I thought I was standing out here in the rain completely dry."

The words were out of my mouth before I realized what his next question would be.

"So… _why_ areyou standing out here in the rain?"

He was still speaking to my back. I turned around to face him.

"Why are _you_?" I asked, because I still didn't have an answer.

"I came to apologize," Malfoy said. "I got really pissed in the library, and I came to say that I'm sorry for being obnoxious—"

"It's a little late for that," I interrupted, but Malfoy ignored me and continued.

"—and I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," I said.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "What do you call that mark?"

He reached out and laid a hand on the small area of skin that had been hit by the sparks. Malfoy's hand was just a few inches above my heart.

I felt my breath catch, and, since his hand was on my collarbone, he must have as well, because he pulled his hand back.

"Right," he said. "Well, we should get inside. You shouldn't stand out in the rain too long."

***

It was weird. Just a few weeks ago Malfoy would rarely say a word to me, and then he started talking to me like we were friends, and now he had reverted back to ignoring me.

He hadn't said a word to me in days, even though we sat next to each other in three classes (Divination, Potions, and Transfiguration), and had to work on nearly every project together. I was starting to hate Professor McGonagall.

I absent-mindedly rubbed the healing burn on my collarbone as I turned the page in my Herbology textbook. Professor Longbottom had been hinting at giving us a pop-quiz, and I was trying to get a head-start on studying, which proved to be very hard given the circumstances regarding Malfoy.

As if to make things worse, I heard his low, sarcastic drawl from across the table. "Studying?"

I raised my eyebrows. "No, I'm just in the library, pouring over books for _fun_," I snapped. Just because I was smart didn't mean I enjoyed studying.

"I've heard your mudblood mother used to –"

"—_Don't_ call my mother –" I interrupted sharply. His name-calling had gotten us into this mess, anyway.

"Alright, alright, your _muggleborn_ mother..."

"Get to the point, Scorpius, what do you want?"

"I dare you."

"You dare me to what?" I asked, exasperated. "You could at least attempt to speak in coherent sentences, you know. Or is that also too difficult for your apparently microscopic brain to grasp?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. He sat down across from me and reached over to grab my book. "I dare you," he said slowly, "To go into the Shrieking Shack. Alone. With me."

"If I'm with you, I'm not alone," I said, rolling my eyes. "And besides, even if I did agree, the next Hogsmeade trip's not until next month –"

"Rose, Rose, Rose," Scorpius said, taunting. "You really don't put it all together, do you?"

I tried to grab my book, but he held it farther out of my reach.

"Malfoy," I snarled.

"Yes, that IS my surname," he said.

"You're obnoxious, you know that?"

"I've been told," he smirked.

I looked up to glare at his grey eyes, and... whoa...

No. Under no circumstances would I ever admit that Scorpius Malfoy was... sort of attractive. Wait -- no!

"What do you want?" I asked weakly, still sort of dazed. There was no way…

"I already told you," he said patiently. "You. Shrieking Shack. Next weekend."

"I'm not sneaking out of Hogwarts," I said, trying and failing once again to retrieve my textbook.

"What if I told you that you didn't have to leave the grounds?"

"But –" I still couldn't figure out how that was remotely possible.

"Do you accept the dare?"

"But how –"

"Yes or no, Weasley, do you accept?"

"Why are you even daring me to... go into the shrieking shack? What's in it for you?"

Scorpius smirked. "I'm offering to show you a secret passage out of Hogwarts – through the Shrieking Shack. Are you coming or not?"

"I..."

"Come on, Rose, you're a Weasley. I've seen your Potter cousins, every one of them would be jumping at the chance."

"I would have thought you wouldn't be one to judge people by their families, considering your father and all..." The words were out of my mouth before I could take them back, but this time he didn't jump up.

"I'll be there next weekend. Are you coming?"

I met his eyes again – another mistake. Damn it.

"Fine."

**A/N: **_So. According to the amortentia Rose likes the way Scorpius smells, and now she thinks – whether or not she'll admit to herself – that he looks "kind of attractive." How much longer until she falls completely head over heels – or doesn't. What I like the most about this chapter is that it could go either way: on the one hand, she's ticked off at him for ignoring her, then talking to her, then ignoring her again, and for being obnoxious and conceited and for getting them in trouble in the first place. But then, on the other hand, she's starting to see another side of Scorpius Malfoy, a side that hates the connotations associated with his surname and who helped her get back inside while she was standing out in the rain…_

_It's a solid basis for friendship, at any rate._

_And one other thing: I really love sappy metaphors, so the whole "Malfoy's hand was just above my heart" is intentional. She isn't in love with him yet – he isn't holding her heart, but he's getting closer…_

_Originally, the line went something like "his hand was on my skin, just a few inches away from my heart," but I didn't want it to seem like he was feeling her up. Because he wasn't. Even a Malfoy knows his limits._

_Anyway, thanks so much for all the reviews (once I post this I'm going to go back and reply to some), and I'd love some more!_

_Next update by next Sunday!_


	7. Discoveries

"Where were you all afternoon?" Marissa asked when I got back to my dormitory after dinner.

"The library," I answered, setting down my book-bag and pulling out the Herbology book.

"For eight hours? I haven't seen you since lunch. I waited for you after dinner, but you didn't show up."

"You know Professor Longbottom's been hinting about a pop-quiz; I had to study."

"For eight hours?" Marissa looked at me doubtfully. "Rose, you're a straight-O student. You get perfect marks. Don't you think you're overdoing it just a bit?"

"I—" I faltered. "Herbology is a really hard class…"

"Rose, are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, just a little tired, I guess," I said.

Was I okay? Even after Malfoy had left the library, I had found it incredibly difficult to concentrate on schoolwork.

Before either one of us could say anything else, the four other fifth year girls in our dormitory came up from the common room.

First came the twins, Melody and Harmony Lee. Their mother, Cho Chang-Lee, had been a year older than my parents (and apparently my Uncle Harry's ex-girlfriend, a fact that always made Aunt Ginny a little uneasy around them. I, on the other hand, was almost as close friends with them as I was with Marissa).

Harmony and Melody were almost indistinguishable; both sported identical shoulder-length sleek black hair and dark brown eyes. The only difference between them was the faint scar on Harmony's chin.

Despite their identical looks, the twins were complete opposites in terms of personality. Melody was quieter; she enjoyed reading and relaxing and spent her free time studying to get good marks. She was an extreme morning person, so she took the liberty of being the first to bed every night, preferring eight hours of sleep to gossiping down in the common room about boys and classes and such.

Harmony, on the other hand, was athletic. She was fantastic on the Quidditch team – she had been Seeker since First Year, even before I had joined the team as a Chaser in Third Year when my cousin Molly graduated. Unlike her sister, Harmony stayed up until God-knows-when every night. She was fun to be around late at night, but in the morning it could be a right pain in the neck to try and wake her up.

The only thing the twins ever seemed to agree on was that their parents had absolutely no common sense, naming one twin Melody and the other Harmony. In First Year they had been subject to many teasing jokes because of it. Once Harmony had become very good at the Bat-Bogey Hex (thanks in part to my cousin Albus, who had learned it from Aunt Ginny and had the heart to teach her), people had learned quickly to lay off.

Following Harmony and Melody were Claire Robinson and Delilah Parker. Claire was a blue-eyed, blonde-haired muggle-born, and Delilah was a darker skinned pureblood. Even though they weren't identical in the slightest, they may as well have been the twins because they were way more inseparable than Melody and Harmony.

"Hey," Delilah greeted Marissa and I, as Harmony grabbed a snitch out of her massive pile of stuff (Melody was definitely the more organized of the twins) and Melody grabbed her pajamas.

"Mel, it's eight o'clock!" Claire laughed. "You can't honestly be getting into bed already!"

Harmony left the room, saying something quickly about practicing against some Ravenclaw fourth year, while Melody told Claire, "Well, I am," and went off to go brush her teeth.

"Come on," Claire turned to Delilah, "I wanted to go snag some food from the kitchens."

Delilah rolled her eyes. "Ever since you started going out with Potter you've been following all his prankster habits," she said, but conceded and followed Claire out the door.

Was it weird that one of my close friends was dating my cousin?

Well, yes, it probably was, but at least Claire was happy. Maybe she could even manage to keep him out of trouble – Aunt Ginny would like that.

My thoughts were interrupted when Claire suddenly reappeared in the doorway. "Oh, I almost forgot. When I was leaving the Great Hall, Scorpius Malfoy said you left this in the library."

Like most of the Gryffindors, Claire said Malfoy's name with a mix of admiration and repulsion. On the one hand, she probably thought he was good-looking (which, I still held, he wasn't), but on the other, she knew about his family and she knew about his current obnoxious behavior.

As Claire handed me the scraps of parchment that contained my Herbology notes, I remembered that Malfoy had left the library before I had, so to have gotten the notes – and they were definitely mine, and I probably had been so spacey because of, er, recent developments, that I really had left them behind– he must have doubled back.

Which meant that he had gone back for them. Which meant that he cared enough to go back.

And for some reason, and I wasn't exactly sure why, that made me feel really giddy inside.

I was being ridiculous. Scorpius must have left something of his behind, or had to go back to the library to do some actual studying, and noticed my notes. They would have been lying on the table after all.

The whole amortentia thing was really getting to my head.

"You were in the library with Malfoy?" Marissa's voice shook me out of my reverie.

"We were working on McGonagall's thing," I lied.

"God, I feel sorry for you," she said. "But I thought you were studying for Herbology?"

"I studied too."

Marissa raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. I was glad, because I didn't want to explain the things that I wasn't so sure of myself.

Melody returned from the bathroom and I busied myself with reading over the notes I was still holding, and that's when I noticed it:

At the bottom of the page, in small letters that I recognized as Malfoy's handwriting, one line of print was visible.

_Saturday, 8:30. Quidditch Pitch. I dare you._

.:|:.

It took a while for me to fall asleep. And when I finally did, the dream I had made me wish that I hadn't.

_My hand is intertwined with another, paler, hand. Then the image changes, fades away like in one of those muggle movies mum used to make me watch when I was little. And now my brown eyes are staring into a pair of cold, grey eyes. And the scene changes again. _

_An eleven-year-old boy in clean, new robes, standing in the aisle of a train that first time I met him. "You really have no friends? You're sitting here alone because you have no friends to sit with?" _

_Before I can respond, before I can say anything, the scene changes again, and I'm a fourth year hexing the boy with the platinum blonde hair into oblivion during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson._

_And then I'm in McGonagall's office, listening to him call my mother a mudblood._

_He's sitting at his desk in Divination, and I'm telling him sternly, "__I don't want to sit next to you in Divination. I don't want to work with you on McGonagall's extra credit assignment. And I definitely don't like you. So please, spare me the nausea, and at least pretend to be amiable__."_

_And then he's standing in the library with his wand against my throat, yelling at me about judging people by their surnames and such._

_In the next scene he's sitting in the library, daring me to go into the woods, and for some reason it's hard for me to breathe and it's hard for me to think clearly, because it's as though he's trying to prove my previous statement from Divination class wrong._

_And then, suddenly, the scene changes one last time and my lips are pressed against his. And even though I can't smell in this dream, I know that he smells like spices and pine and the quidditch pitch._

_My amortentia potion is bubbling somewhere in the background, alerting me to something I should have realized from the start._

I bolted upright in bed. It was still dark outside, probably around three or four in the morning. Breathing hard, I tried to organize my thoughts.

I knew a lot of things. I knew that except for the hand holding and (I suppressed a groan) the kissing, everything in my dream had actually happened. I knew that I had grown up despising and ignoring Malfoy.

And I knew that, no matter how hard I might try to convince myself otherwise, I was quite possibly falling in love with Scorpius Malfoy.

Damn it.

***

**A/N: **_Okay, okay, don't kill me, please! I suffered from some pretty severe writers block (thus the insanely long wait for this chapter), so to make up for it I'll do a double update – this being the first ._

_Well, for this chapter I was pretty much trying to figure out what to write about – I got through all the descriptions of the other fifth year Gryffindors (Claire, Delilah, Melody, Harmony), because they had to go somewhere, but the chapter was still short._

_So I decided to just let it go and let Rose have the dream. Heehee._

_Next chapter will be up about two seconds after this one, unless my computer gives me problems. Review please!_


	8. Ignorances

The next day was Friday, one day before the Saturday, and the dare that I had somehow agreed to.

Was I really that stupid, that hopelessly in love, that I would agree to anything he asked?

I did _not _want to be one of those crazy, head-over-heels-in-love kind of girls, not to mention the fact that I could come up with a good three dozen people – most of whom I was related to – who might murder me for liking a Malfoy.

So the only response would be to go back to ignoring and despising him. Everything had been fine between us – by which I mean that our only interaction took place while we were hexing the wits out of each other in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and sometimes in the hallway between classes.

And so, I was incredibly glad that we had Herbology with the Ravenclaws first lesson, followed by Care of Magical Creatures with the Hufflepuffs. Ancient Runes was next, and Scorpius didn't take that, nor did he take Arithmancy. Up until lunch, I hadn't been forced to see him all day.

But then, of course, came Potions, followed by Transfiguration, followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts, followed by Divination, all with the Slytherins. I officially hated Fridays.

Professor Sterling had begun teaching when I was in my fourth year, the year after Professor Slughorn had retired (and trust me, he needed to. The guy was so ancient he had taught my grandparents _and _parents when they had been in school).

Sterling wasn't a bad teacher, and was actually pretty fair, but he had also consented to McGonagall's ridiculous terms of Scorpius-and-Rose quality time, and so I was dreading the class.

Malfoy slid into the seat next to mine. "Nice weather today, isn't it?"

He was referring to the thunderstorm that was currently raging outside. It was the first big storm of the year, and during lunch several first years had cowered in fear every time lightning cracked across the enchanted ceiling.

I responded to Malfoy by shrugging and turning the other way without a word.

"Rose, are you alright?" There was something different in his tone, something that sounded worried. But of course, Malfoy was never _worried_ about anything. He was too self-centered to care about anyone else.

For some reason, that last thought made a sore spot form in my throat, and I bit my lip to keep from crying. It didn't help that I realized that we were suddenly on first-name basis.

I didn't have to try too hard, though, because just then Ricky Kasser's wand backfired as he tried to repair a broken cauldron but muttered the wrong words. I honestly couldn't believe the git had made Slytherin – he was worse than some of the Hufflepuffs.

As Professor Sterling rushed over to help Ricky and shouted at us to turn to page 317 in our books and start cutting up ingredients for the potion we would be making that day, I angled my chair away from Malfoy.

The potion was simple enough to make. Every time Malfoy asked me to pass him a knife or to add something to the cauldron, I complied wordlessly. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him glance over once or twice, but ignored it.

When Professor Sterling dismissed class, I gathered my books silently and left the room with more speed than necessary.

I somehow managed to ignore him through all of Transfiguration. McGonagall didn't look to pleased, but I'd sort it out with her later. For now, I had to sort it out with myself. I definitely didn't want to end up falling hopelessly for Scorpius Malfoy.

Halfway down the hall towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, Marissa caught up with me.

"What happened between you and Malfoy?"

"What are you talking about?" I really hoped that my tone didn't give anything away.

"I don't know," Marissa said honestly, "You two just seemed to be getting along better lately. I was starting to worry that –" but she stopped short and didn't say anything.

"That what?" I asked.

"That – Rose, please don't kill me, I was just wondering – that maybe he'd slipped you some amortentia or something," she laughed. "I know it's ridiculous…"

I felt myself blanch. _What _–

Marissa sensed my unease. "Oh, come off it, Rose, I was just trying to come up with a reason. And I mean, you know that you and I are probably the only two girls in our year who would decline to go out with him, regardless of whatever some of the other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws might claim. He probably wanted to see if he could make you."

"You don't seriously think—"

But I didn't even need to finish the sentence. He would. He totally would.

That's it. I was going to _kill _him. And start watching the pumpkin juice in the Great Hall.

***

"All right," Professor Kessem said as she used her wand to move the desks to the side of the room. "We've been learning out of the book long enough; it's time to start practicing dueling. Do _not _use unforgivable curses and try not to send anyone to the hospital wing. Pair off!"

I headed toward Marissa, but – and I was ready to seriously injure McGonagall – Professor Kessem grabbed my arm. "McGonagall's orders," she said sadly, leading me toward Malfoy. "Even though I know this is probably a bad idea…" she paused, then: "Try not to hurt each other too bad, okay?"

As she headed off to keep Ricky from poking his eye out with his wand, I turned unwillingly to face Malfoy.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted, without warning.

I made a failed attempt to grab at my wand as it flew out of my hand. Malfoy caught it deftly. Stupid Seeker.

I glared at him.

"Rose," he said sharply. "What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, I tried to swipe my wand from his hand, but he was too tall. It was my Herbology textbook in the library all over again.

"Are you okay?"

"I _was_," I snarled. "Until you… you…" I tried to reach my wand again. Still too high up.

"Until I what?" he asked. "What did I do?"

"You know _exactly _what you did."

"Rose… would you care to clue me in?"

"You bloody well know," I said fiercely. "Did you really think I was that – that _stupid_,that I wouldn't find out? You're worse than your father and grandfather _combined_, did you know that? I can't believe that I thought for one second that a Malfoy could be decent."

The hand that had been carrying my wand fell to his side. I took the opportunity to grab my wand back.

And then I proceeded to shout every hex I could think of and aim it all at Malfoy.

"_Protego!_" I heard him shout, after a bat-bogey hex I'd fired had worn off. He stood behind the shield charm, clutching his wrist like it hurt.

The last few spells bounced off, leaving him unharmed.

I was fuming.

And then I heard Malfoy shout something, and then the next thing I knew I was flying backwards.

***

I woke up in the hospital wing with a throbbing headache. I had been in school for barely a week, and already

I blinked a few times. Professor Kessem was talking to Madam Pomfrey. A worried-looking Marissa was standing next to me.

"Oh, good, you're up."

"Yeah…" I mumbled, rubbing my head. "What… what happened?"

She jerked her thumb towards the corner of the room, where I hadn't noticed Malfoy leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He smirked when he saw me.

"Malfoy over there used about three hexes at once. You fell into the bookcase and passed out. Madam Pomfrey was saying something about a concussion."

"Ugh," I groaned.

"Okay, get to class, Marissa. Malfoy, I'll see you about your wrist in a minute," Madam Pomfrey said as she hurried over to help a second year with a very obviously broken nose.

Malfoy walked over to me. "We're still on for tomorrow," he muttered, "right?"

I tried to remember what "tomorrow" meant… Oh, right. The dare.

I glared at him.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position as he said, "Did I do something wrong?" He squinted his eyes in confusion.

Damn, he was attractive.

"Yes," I felt myself saying.

"Yes, I did something wrong, or yes, we're still going to the Shrieking Shack tomorrow?"

"Both."

"I'll figure out what I did wrong," Malfoy shrugged. "And now at least I know that you have a healthy sense of danger. I was starting to worry that you shouldn't really have been a Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor is for bravery, not danger," I reminded him.

"That's what they _say_," he said, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my face as he whispered, "But we all know that you Gryffindors all go for the dangerous guys."

He pulled back and walked briskly over to Madam Pomfrey, who pulled out her wand and muttered something as she tapped his wrist.

I was extremely confused.

***

**A/N: **_So that's part two of the double-update._

_The ending probably seems a little out of character for Scorpius, but I really liked it and couldn't come up with anything to put instead._

_I'd love to hear your thoughts – did Malfoy slip Rose some sort of love-potion, or does she actually like-slash-love him?_

_Also, just to clarify: the whole point of Rose ignoring Scorpius is that she's trying to fall _out _of love with him… if that makes sense. She doesn't _want _to like him…_

_So, I'll try to get another update in soon…_

_Review, please… :-)_


	9. Dreams

It could not be considered luck that we were doing dreams again in Divination. I hated the class already, and given my most recent dream, the class became pure torture.

Given the fact that in the past three days, I had fought with Malfoy, gotten along with Malfoy, fallen for Malfoy, and then found out that he may-or-may-not have slipped me some kind of love potion, it made it all worse that my partner for "analyzing dreams" was Malfoy.

"Remember," Professor Trelawney added, her misty voice carrying across the room, "That some very famous Seers have had visions of the future in their dreams."

Oh, God. My stomach turned on itself as I tried and failed to convince myself that I did _not _want my dream to come true.

"I'll go first," Malfoy said. "Last night, I stayed up until three in the morning finishing my Charms Essay. Then I dreamed that I forgot to turn it in and failed Charms," Malfoy shrugged. "Clearly, that means that I'm going to get killed by a naffle or whatever the hell Lysander Scamander was on about at lunch," he finished sarcastically.

"Nargle," I corrected automatically. Lysander, son of Luna Lovegood-Scamander, was a miniature, male version of his mother.

"You're talking to me again?" Scorpius asked, sounding a little surprised. "I thought you were still mad at me."

"I am still mad at you," I said, "I just don't want to fail Divination."

"Like Professor Trelawney actually cares. She loves you, just like every other teacher at this school."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, you must have noticed. They all favor you just because of your _family_. As if having a famous surname means that you're some kind of super-god. As if you must be _exactly like _your family–"

"That's not true. Professor Trelawney hates my parents. My mum dropped her class and my dad practically failed every year," I pointed out.

"Right. So she must _love _my father."

"I didn't say anything about your father."

"You must find it pretty great," Malfoy said, ignoring me. "You've got teachers throwing good marks at you because your mum was the smartest witch in her year, you've got random people stopping you on the street because 'you're that Weasley girl.' You've got so much going for you, and you don't have to pay attention to the prejudices people still have."

Why was it that every time I talked to Malfoy, the conversation always led to our families?

"I—" I started, but Scorpius cut me off.

"And you probably think I'm just some conceited prat because I have to walk around and pretend I don't care about what anyone says. I have to pretend it doesn't bother me when my dad's old friends from school tell me I look 'just like my father,'" he surrounded the words with air quotes. "I have to pretend it doesn't bother me when –"

But I would never find out what he had to pretend didn't bother him, because just then Professor Trelawney walked by and Malfoy switched topics deftly.

"So, that was my dream. Now it's your turn."

Crap.

"Um… I dreamed that I drowned in the lake and then got eaten by an acromantula," I lied, both because Professor Trelawney loves death and because it was the first thing I could come up with.

"An acromantula," one of Malfoy's eyebrows shot up. "That probably means you're going to win the lottery or something. This class makes no sense."

I just shrugged, feeling relieved that he had bought my lie. I _really _didn't want to know what would have happened if he hadn't. It made me really glad that as far as I knew, he couldn't do legilimency.

Professor Trelawney lectured for the rest of the period. When I got up to leave the room after she dismissed class, Malfoy said, "See you tomorrow," and it took me a full ten minutes to remember what he was talking about.

Tomorrow, Malfoy was going to show me some sort of secret passageway to the shrieking shack.

And for some reason, I had agreed to go with him.

Falling in love made you do stupid things.

***

"Come on, team!" Jesse Goldstein, son of Anthony Goldstein – who had been in my parents' year – and Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, yelled.

It was our first practice of the year. A third year called Cameron Bates passed me the quaffle and I caught it deftly and threw the quaffle towards the highest goal. My cousin James, our keeper, happened to be very good, and he blocked the shot.

"Good save, Potter," Jesse called. "And Weasley," he added, "Nice shot. If anyone but James had been there, it would have gone in."

After a few more rounds of Chaser/Keeper practice, Jesse had the beaters hit the bludgers around a little, and then let Harmony practice with the snitch.

"Okay," he called when it started getting dark out. "That's enough for tonight. We've got a strong team this year," he nodded towards our newest recruits, Ryan Creevey (a second-year Beater who happened to have an incredibly strong swing) and a first year Chaser called Jennifer Anderson who handled the quaffle as though she had been playing for years, even though she was muggle-born and hadn't known what quidditch was until a few days ago.

"We play Hufflepuff in two weeks," Jesse continued. "That means we've got to get a lot of extra practice in. I've booked the pitch for next Monday night, so meet here after dinner. Alright, everyone, go shower!"

***

"Marissa, can I borrow your shampoo?" I asked when I reached our dormitory.

"Yeah, it's in the cabinet in the bathroom. It's the one in the white bottle. Why?"

"I'm running out," I said, which wasn't a complete lie.

I checked the label on the bottle – jasmine. Good.

Professor Sterling had informed us after class that we would be brewing amortentia in Potions again on Monday, and I planned on testing my shampoo-theory out.

If Malfoy still smelled raspberries, I'd feel relieved and be able to sort out the whole antidote-to-love-potion thing in peace.

And if he smelled jasmine, I would officially try to actually get eaten by an acromantula. I refused to be in love with a Malfoy.

***

**A/N: **___Ah, poor Rose. She really wants to believe that Malfoy has no romantic interest in her and that he slipped her a love potion. How little she knows…_

_And how much fun she is to write._

_Alrighty, then, review please!_

_And next chapter will be more interesting. I promise. :-)_


	10. Learnings

"Are you sure we aren't breaking any school rules?" I asked, a little frantic. I didn't mind breaking rules for a good reason, but this probably didn't qualify.

"No more than your parents broke."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on," Scorpius replied, "Your parents never told you about their third year?"

We were walking across the grounds, in the general direction of the Forbidden Forest, which made me a little nervous.

"They told me the important parts."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Which important parts?"

"They found out their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a werewolf, that Sirius Black was innocent and apparently my Uncle Harry's godfather…" I trailed off.

"They never told you about the shrieking shack?"

"No."

"My father did," he said. "He told me that your parents knew how to get down there. My father was probably a pretty big prat back then, but he also told me that your parents third year was when—" he stopped.

"What?"

"We're here."

"You're joking, right?" I said, staring at the location he gestured to. "I refuse to go anywhere near that thing."

_That thing_ happened to be the Whomping Willow.

It also happened to be thrashing around wildly, knocking anything within a five foot range – and that included birds, plants, and a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had bewitched to fly around and flash yellow and black (McGonagall had probably reprimanded the responsible Hufflepuff already) – clear out of the sky.

But did Scorpius Malfoy care about that? No. He just smirked and rolled his eyes at me.

"_Accio_," he ordered, pointing his wand at a long branch that was lying on the ground a few feet away. "Watch and learn, Weasley."

And that was when he walked up to the tree – careful to avoid the violent limbs, of course – and prodded a small knot on the trunk with the branch.

And the willow froze.

I felt my jaw go slack with shock.

"What the..." I muttered.

"Are you coming?" Malfoy asked.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Then I hurried to follow him through the small hole at the base of the tree, feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland chasing after the rabbit – except, of course, that Malfoy wasn't a rabbit, and that in my mum's old book, Alice was dreaming the entire time. I was fairly certain that I was not asleep at the moment.

We ended up in a tunnel that stretched on for what felt like 10 kilometers (but it was probably just the building suspense that made it seem longer). At last the tunnel dropped off into an extremely dusty room, with ramshackle furniture lying all over the place.

"W-where is this?" I stammered.

"The Shrieking Shack."

We were inside the Shrieking Shack. He'd held true to his promise, at any rate.

"Look," he said suddenly. "I didn't take you here just to show you a way to sneak off grounds. Your cousin James has probably figured this one out by now, anyway."

It was true, I could just picture James sneaking down here with Claire. But that still didn't explain why Malfoy had brought me down here.

"I just…" Scorpius continued, "I wanted to show you something. Something I thought someone as smart as you would have figured it out last year when you first saw…" his voice trailed off.

And then suddenly he was gone, replaced by a wolf.

A very familiar wolf. As in, the same wolf I had seen in third year on the dare into the Forbidden Forest.

A second later, the wolf transformed back into Scorpius.

I backed away from him, managing to stutter, "Y-you?"

He nodded.

"So, what?" I asked, my confidence building. "You're an animagus? What the hell were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

Yeah. So I find out that one of my classmates is an animagus – unregistered, I might add – and all I do is ask what he was doing in the woods.

"I needed to get away from stuff," he shrugged. "Besides, you weren't exactly supposed to be in the forest either."

"It was a dare."

Kind of like this one, I thought, but I didn't say anything. "I do stupid things sometimes on dares."

"We should get back to the castle," Scorpius said, somehow remaining calm.

I definitely wasn't. Calm, I mean. And so, as we climbed back through the tunnel, I told him off for pretty much everything that was wrong with being an unregistered animagus.

"Honestly, Malfoy, you could get into so much trouble! It's illegal to be unregistered, and besides that there are all kinds of monsters in the Forbidden Forest, seeing as it's _forbidden_ for a reason. You could be killed, for Merlin's sake—"

"Rose," he said sharply. "Just don't tell anyone, okay? I'd rather people didn't know."

.:|:.

"Quidditch practice at six tomorrow morning," Harmony told me when I arrived back at the Gryffindor common room.

"Why?" I asked, although honestly my mind was focused less on Quidditch and more on the fact that I'd just learned that Malfoy was an unregistered animagus.

"We're scrimmaging Slytherin Monday night, so we can't practice then, and of course Jesse's completely insane and thinks we can all get up in time for a 6a.m. practice – on Sunday!" she added, as though it were a cardinal sin.

"Why are we scrimmaging Slytherin?"

"Because, now that James is definitely playing keeper, Jesse wants to see how well I can play against Malfoy," Harmony rolled her eyes. "You know it's really because he's sweet on their chaser – what's her name? Teeny or something?"

"Tina," I corrected. Tina McNealy was one of those girls who was about the size of a toothpick, because she never ate anything more than a hundred calories at one meal, a fact that Harmony found disturbing.

But still, our captain was practically in love with her.

I guess it could have been worse: at least Jesse's job was to keep our players safe from bludgers, and didn't have anything to do with Tina, so the fact that he fancied her didn't affect his playing much. Still, scrimmaging at six in the morning was a pain in the arse, especially considering that I doubted I'd be getting much sleep tonight, after everything Scorpius had shown me.

**A/N:** _I am officially a terrible author, seeing as I haven't updated in, oh, I don't know, about 8 months. I hate real life, it keeps you away from writing these… Can I blame it on the nargles?_

_But, other than the fact that this took half a million years to put up, I'm happy with this chapter. And (even if you absolutely hate me and think I deserve to have a blast-ended skrewt attack me for not writing in so long), I'd really appreciate reviews._

_Again, I'm so, so, so sorry for being such a horrible author._


	11. Uncarings

"Rose!" Jennifer Anderson passed me the quaffle. I dodged an oncoming bludger, faked left, then sent the quaffle soaring through the center goal post.

"Ten points for Gryffindor!" Claire, who'd volunteered to keep score (if only to watch James), announced. "That's 30-20 to Gryffindor."

Wesley Flint, the Slytherin Keeper, looked angry for a second, but he went to retrieve the quaffle anyway, throwing it back into the air to resume play. Tina McNealy caught it and drove it down the pitch. James blocked her shot easily.

Originally, James had played as Seeker, and Harmony had been a Chaser. This year, James decided to switch positions, since our old Keeper, Nellie Wood, left Hogwarts after her seventh year, and James was better at Keeper anyway. Harmony had tried out for the Seeker position, and Jennifer had filled in her vacant spot as Chaser.

The new team dynamics worked better, and our team was much stronger than last year, which was proven when Harmony caught the snitch about a split-second before Malfoy touched it, bringing our team to victory.

I was happy for Harmony, really, but for some reason, I couldn't help glancing sideways at Malfoy.

Only to catch him staring back at me.

I quickly averted my gaze, staring at the tip of my broomstick like it was the most interesting object on the planet, trying desperately to stop the blush that I could feel warming my cheeks.

.:|:.

"No way."

"I swear to Merlin it's true," I protested. "Would my dad really lie about something like that?"

Malfoy shot me a look that made it clear what _his_ opinion on the matter was.

"Right," I said, "Stupid question. Of course he would. But I'm pretty sure I heard my mum saying something about it too."

We were sitting in the library that afternoon, forming an outline for the paper that McGonagall had requested (pronounced: forced) us to write.

"There is absolutely no way that your mother punched my dad in the face."

"Right," I snorted (God, how unattractive could I get? – Not that there was any reason for me to want to appear attractive to Scorpius Malfoy. Allegedly slipping me love potions is not romantic in the slightest), "Because your dad would want to admit to being injured by a muggle-born Gryffindor because… why?"

"Oh, come on, like your mum would ever admit that my dad consistently did better than her in Potions."

"Actually, she did mention that," I said. "Apparently Professor Snape favored Slytherin."

"Scor!" I turned towards the sound of the voice, and suppressed a groan. It was as if one Slytherin prat wasn't bad enough, so Todd Richards _had _to come make me miserable. "Did you do the Potions homework?" Todd asked.

"Yeah," Malfoy answered.

"Can I copy it?"

"Todd, it's not due till tomorrow. Just do it yourself."

"Can't. The party's in half an hour and I've still got to get the firewhiskey from Sanders."

_No, Rose,_ I mentally instructed myself, _You will not, under any circumstances, ask about this. It doesn't matter that some Slytherin seventh year is smuggling in alcohol. You will not…_

But apparently my mouth didn't feel like cooperating with my brain, because the next words out of my mouth were, "What party?"

The look Todd gave me could only be described as condescending. Maybe it was because my mother was muggle-born, maybe because I was a Gryffindor, or maybe because he blamed me for being stuck with Marissa as a partner in potions and divination (since I was being forced to work with Malfoy on everything). Whatever the case, he glared at me, then turned his glare into an eye-roll, tacitly implying that everybody who was anybody – meaning most of his mates, and a couple of single girls he probably thought were hot – already knew about this party, and that I was _not_ invited.

Malfoy apparently shared this sentiment, since he added, "It's just a thing we're having for some of our _friends_." Translation: You are not one of my friends, and in fact, you are so worthless to me that I enjoy trying to make you feel inferior by making it clear that you aren't invited to this party. Also, my mate Richards and I do not find you attractive in the slightest.

And, well, let's face it, out-of-control, curly reddish-brownish hair and muddy brown eyes don't exactly scream "beautiful."

But it's not like I cared what Malfoy thought of me anyway.

"Who are you taking, anyway?" Todd interrupted my reverie.

"Dunno yet," Scorpius said.

_Rose Weasley,_ I told myself, _You do _not_ want to go to this party, and especially not with Scorpius Malfoy. So don't even think about it. And even if he does ask you_—

"Hey, Mia!" Malfoy called to Mia Reynolds, an extremely pretty Ravenclaw who should have considered herself way out of Malfoy's league. Madame Pince either didn't hear or didn't care – but probably didn't hear, because she was going deaf in her old age anyway – and didn't berate Malfoy for shouting across the library.

"Yeah?" Mia responded.

"Todd's throwing a party down in the dungeons tonight. Want to come with me?" Malfoy asked.

Like I said, Mia should have considered herself far too good for Scorpius Malfoy, but of course she, like almost every other girl in the school, probably thought he was extremely good-looking, and so she shrugged, probably trying to look nonchalant – but failing by being unable to hold back a smile – and said, "Sure."

I didn't care. I didn't care one bit that I'd been sitting right here next to him the entire time, and he still asked Mia instead of me.

And anyway, she only said yes because she thought he was hot. And, yes, I'll admit that I found him a little attractive, but piercing silver eyes were overrated, anyway. And so were sharp jaws. And really muscular arms.

So I didn't care that Malfoy had asked Mia instead of me. I didn't care at all.

**A/N:** _This is up a little later than I'd planned, but it's still less than eight months, so I'm doing okay :-) Next chapter will be up shortly._

_I really like this chapter, by the way… especially how Malfoy suddenly acts all antagonistic towards Rose once Todd Richards shows up. And in case anyone was wondering, I've decided that Mia Reynolds is Padma Patil's daughter. So when Rose says that Mia should consider herself above Malfoy, part of it is because her aunt is Parvati, who would (naturally) despise anyone carrying the surname "Malfoy." _

_Reviews are welcome and much appreciated x_


	12. Perspectives

**A/N:** _Yeah, I know I usually don't do these author notes at the beginning of chapters, but I thought I should explain some stuff first for this chapter. I know I promised you guys last chapter that this one would be the party – and it is, don't worry – but then I changed my mind about what I wanted to happen, and decided that this chapter would work much better from Scorpius' POV, since, well, Rose's would be really confusing for this chapter, so it's going to start out in Scorpius' POV and switch to Rose's later on. Anyway, here we go. In Scorpius' POV._

_(In case you were too lazy to read that whole long paragraph, this is in _Scorpius' POV_)_

For whatever reason, the dungeons were _the _place to throw fantastic parties. Don't ask me whose idea it was to have the best parties in a cold, dark cellar that always – no matter how many scented candles or air-fresheners were hung up – held the faint odor of mildew, but the best Hogwarts parties were always thrown in the dungeons adjacent to the Slytherin common room, and Todd's party was no different.

I walked in with Mia to the pulsing sound of music playing way too loud, the scent of a mixture of sweat and alcohol (but hey, at least it smelled better than the mildew), and a good five dozen Hogwarts students in fourth year and up. They were mostly Slytherins and Ravenclaws, with a few Hufflepuffs and one or two Gryffindors there for good measure. It was a normal party, and I was holding the hand of a girl who was no stranger to such parties.

Anyone asked to describe Mia Reynolds would tell you any of a number of things – she was beautiful, she was well-liked, she was intelligent. She was the sort of girl a Malfoy would be expected to be seen with, and so I'm fairly certain that nobody thought it was strange that she walked in to Todd Richards' party with me.

But it still felt _wrong_.

It's not that she wasn't popular or pretty or smart, because, believe me, she was. Even someone who was half-blind would have told you that her almond-shaped eyes and dark skin were beautiful. Anyone would have told you that she had somewhere in the realm of five thousand friends, because she had the sort of personality that made everyone want to hang out with her. And in terms of intellect, well, she wasn't a Ravenclaw for nothing. She nearly always came out at the top of our year, although I had done better on our Potions Final the previous year, and Albus Potter (yes, related to the beloved Harry Potter who defeated the Dark Lord twenty-whatever years ago) had barely tied with her in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

And, on occasion, Rose Weasley would pull out ahead of Mia.

"Hey, Scor," I heard Todd Richards say, stumbling over his own feet and slurring his words. "Mia," he nodded at her.

Todd always took in more alcohol than he could handle, and more often than not spent most of his parties throwing up in the bathroom, or otherwise making himself look like an idiot. But, since pretty much everyone else was too drunk to care, nobody ever remembered much afterwards and he was still incredibly popular.

Still, I pointed my wand at the bar, muttered, "_Accio butterbeer,_" and replaced the firewhiskey in Todd's hand with the non-alcoholic drink. He was already drunk; the least I could do was keep him from getting more intoxicated.

Todd walked away to go talk to (or, more likely, make a fool of himself in front of) a couple of sixth year girls, and Mia asked me quietly, "Is he always that…"

"Wasted?" I suggested. "He doesn't know his limits with alcohol," I said. "He always drinks too much."

"Sounds like a real charmer," she said sarcastically. "Want to dance?" She gestured towards the center of the dungeon, where couples were dancing to some fast paced song underneath the flashing lights of a set of Filibuster Fireworks.

As I stood there with my arms around Mia, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. And yeah, so I'd only asked Mia because she was basically the only girl in the library Todd would have approved of me taking to his party (not that I needed Todd's approval for anything, but it's important to keep up reputations). But Mia was pretty, and popular, and smart, and a lot nicer than most of the other girls I'd ever asked out, so I shouldn't have felt like there was something wrong with going to some party with her.

"Those fireworks are pretty cool," I said, trying to start a conversation, because even though the music was insanely loud, the silence between Mia and I felt a little awkward.

"Yeah. They're from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," Mia said.

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Weasleys'.

The fireworks were crashing above our heads, and I was holding the wrong girl in my arms.

Which would explain why this whole thing with Mia felt wrong, but…

No. There was absolutely no way. And yeah, so maybe my amortentia had smelt a little bit like her hair, but that didn't mean I… no. And maybe I showed her about my being an unregistered animagus for apparently no reason, but it was because I wanted to see if she would accept the dare. That's all. It had nothing to do with… with… _fancying_ her.

She was a bloody Weasley!

I muttered a quick excuse to Mia about going to the bathroom and left the dungeons, walking quickly up the stairs to the library. But when I pushed open the doors and glanced around, Rose wasn't in there.

Swearing under my breath, I climbed up seven flights of stairs until I finally arrived at the portrait of the fat lady which I knew marked the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

Apparently I am insane, since although I knew where to _find_ Rose's common room, I couldn't exactly get in on my own. After a few minutes of standing there like an idiot, the painting swung on its hinges off the wall, and Delilah Parker, a girl I'd never talked to much even though she was in my year started to climb through.

"Delilah," I said, trying to breathe evenly. "I need to talk to Rose Weasley."

.:|:.

_Rose's POV:_

"Can you explain to me why you're so angry?" Marissa asked.

"I'm not mad," I said – okay, snapped.

"Then why are you trying to murder your History of Magic essay?"

I glanced down at the parchment I'd written a few paragraphs on. I'd have to rewrite it all, though, because I'd subconsciously been stabbing at the paper with my quill, so that it now contained about thirty small holes in it.

"I… I—" I hadn't told Marissa anything about Todd Richards' party, or that Malfoy had asked out Mia Reynolds, instead of me, because I would have sounded crazy if I'd told her that I was upset that he hadn't asked me. It's not like I even liked the guy. Much.

I was spared from having to answer Marissa's question, however, because Delilah came running over to us.

"Rose," she said, "Um… Scorpius Malfoy is outside. He says he has to talk with you."

Marissa's eyebrows shot up, as I'd imagine mine did as well.

"Why?" I managed to stammer. After all, he was _supposed_ to be hooking up with Mia Richards at Todd's party.

"He didn't say. But he sounded kind of impatient."

Marissa stood up. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"I'll be all right," I told her, but I grabbed my wand off the desk anyway, just in case.

He was pacing the hallway outside the common room.

"Rose," he said, when he saw me.

"Aren't you supposed to be at Todd Richards' party?" I couldn't help myself; I had to ask.

But Malfoy ignored me. "I need you to shout at me."

"I'm sorry, _what_?" I asked.

**A/N:** _Little bit of a cliffhanger ending, but I'm a little pressed for time so I'll post the next chapter soon, I just thought I'd put this up now… Anyway, Scorpius POV: good or bad? I might do another chapter like this eventually._

_Anyway. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The party thing was a little clichéd, I know, but it was a sort of necessary plot twist._

_Anyway, thank you all SO MUCH for the reviews from last chapter, I'm sorry I didn't respond to many of them… But, as always, reviews are very welcome. :-)_


	13. Shoutings

"I need you to shout at me," Malfoy repeated slowly. It looked like he was struggling to keep from shouting himself.

"Did you down a few too many firewhiskeys at Todd's party? Because you should probably be aware that you aren't making any sense," I said.

He fixed his silver eyes on mine, but looked away quickly. "Rose. Please."

He really was insane, or at least a little bit buzzed from the alcohol. First he takes Mia Reynolds to the party, even though I was _right there_, and now he expected me to listen to his ridiculous request to shout at him?

And it's not like I should even be mad at him – it's not like I even _like_ the guy… okay, so maybe there's a trivial possibility that I like him _a little_. And it's mostly based on the way he looks, which I know sounds completely superficial, but that's okay, because it's not as though I enjoy his personality in the slightest.

And yeah, so he'd been a lot nicer to me in the past few weeks than he had before, but he'd also sent me to the hospital wing twice (even if the first time hadn't exactly been his fault, since he couldn't really help the way my amortentia smelled, but still). He'd blown up at me in the library that one day, and I _still_ had a mark on my collarbone from it. He'd made snappy remarks and acted like the self-centered prat he was.

But then again, I'd also chased him through the rain and learned that he was an unregistered animagus (a fact I'm fairly certain all but two students at our school are unaware of). I'd had legitimately sincere conversations with him in the context of McGonagall's bloody paper. I'd learned that he hated the stereotype he'd inherited from his father.

I'd learned that behind the arrogant exterior he'd built around himself, Scorpius Malfoy had a few redeeming qualities.

And I hated him for that. I hated that I had to sit next to him in half my classes and work on stupid projects with him. I hated that he'd taken Mia Reynolds to the party. I hated that his eyes made him look so bloody attractive, when I didn't want to be _attracted_ to anything about him.

And I hated that now he wanted me to scream at him, because there were so many words that I wanted to yell in his face, even though I would never in a million years strike up the courage to say them all.

But in my anger, I made an attempt anyway.

"You know why I hate you?" I said, starting off with a question, trying to keep my tone measured, even as my voice got louder and angrier with every word. "I hate that you're still living in the past. I hate that you think that just because your dad was an obnoxious asshole, you have to be one too. I hate that you _enjoy_ calling my mother a mudblood because you think it bothers me! Because you know what? It does bother me. It bothers me that you think the stereotypes people place on you are unfair, when you are _exactly _like your father!"

Malfoy winced visibly at that. I took a few shuddering breaths before I continued.

"And you know what else I hate about you? I hate that you apparently _enjoy_ messing with my head! First you hate me, because my last name's Weasley and my mother's a muggleborn. Then _you_ get mad at _me_ about stereotyping. And then you act sweet for about a split-second, so that I think that maybe if my dad wouldn't murder me for it I could be friends with you! But no, the next second you're all obnoxious. And then you dare me to meet you in the shrieking shack – Merlin knows why – and the next day you give me a _concussion_ in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and all you have to say to me when I wake up in the hospital wing is that you hope I can show up. Oh, and then it turns out that you're an unregistered animagus. Then Todd Richards shows up to tell you about some party, and you go and act all obnoxious to me like _I_ did something wrong. And I hate that you can't be one person for ten seconds, because you have to flip back and forth between being your dad and being my friend and then being a conceited asshole! I _hate _that, Scorpius Malfoy."

In the process of screaming my lungs off at Malfoy, I'd sort of forgotten that it was necessary to breathe, and while I inhaled, he took the chance to interrupt.

"Well, you know what I hate about _you_, Rose Weasley?" Unlike me, he wasn't shouting, and so his face wasn't bright red, as I'd imagine mine was. "I hate that you take your life for granted. You have about a million cousins, and you're not close friends with any of them. Albus is in our year – he's in your house, for Merlin's sake – and you two rarely talk. I doubt you've said a word to your brother since the incident in McGonagall's office, and I don't think you speak to James Potter except during Quidditch – or to his sister Lily, either. And that's probably not even all the cousins you have at this school."

He closed his eyes for a second, before adding softly, "Do you know what I would give to have the kind of family you do?"

He opened his eyes, their silver shining in the light from one of the candles on the wall. "I hate that you have all these people to support you when you have problems. I have my parents, and that's it. You've basically summed up my dad pretty accurately, and you can imagine the kind of woman who would marry him. You have a world full of people out there who love you because of your name."

He turned around so that I couldn't see his face.

"I doubt there's a wizard on the planet who can hear the name Malfoy and not think 'Voldemort.' You have no idea what it's like to walk down the street with everyone whispering about you and how your family is evil. And I hate that you take that for granted."

I stood there in stunned silence. I mean, okay, I rarely talked to my relatives, if at all, because I had other friends.

I'd just… I'd just never really looked at it from the perspective of someone who _didn't_ have much of a family.

"I also hate that you think the stories your parents told you about the Dividing War are the complete truth. Because I know my dad has a lot of faults, but he never lied to me. Did you know his father put him up to joining up with the Death Eaters? It wasn't his own decision at all. But you think that just because your dad said that my father was a Death Eater it means he would willingly help start up an army to support Voldemort. I hate that you'll trust virtually anything anyone tells you, unless it comes from me, in which case it's obviously false."

I could barely detect a faint note of hurt in his voice, but I didn't care.

"If all you wanted to do was insult me, you should have just waited until morning," I said, moving to push him out of the way so I could get back to my dormitory.

"Rose, wait," he said, grabbing my wrist and turning me to face him. "I didn't come here to yell at you," he conceded, but still didn't let go of my wrist. "I…" he faltered.

Yes, Malfoy _faltered_. I think the world might have tilted off its axis or something.

Then he took a deep breath, and continued. "This is going to sound really strange right now, and I'm probably going to regret it, but…" he took another breath. "At the party tonight, with Mia… everything just felt _wrong_. And I'm pretty sure it's because… because I like someone else. And I learned about two minutes ago that you can shout at me as much as you want, because I can never hate you. Because even though my dad's going to murder me if he finds out what I'm about to do… I'm going to do it anyway. I think I love you, Rose Weasley."

And then, before I had time to react, his lips were pressed against mine.

**A/N:** _I don't think this one needs much of an explanation :-)_


	14. Viewpoints

**A/N: **_This one's in Scorpius' POV again… I tried writing it from Rose, but it didn't really work, and apparently you guys liked it last time… plus I need a bit of an explanation for the totally OOC moment that just occurred in the previous chapter. The beginning backtracks a bit._

_Scorpius POV:_

"If all you wanted to do was insult me, you should have just waited until morning," Rose said, trying to push me out of the way as she stormed towards her dormitory.

I don't know what made me do it. I really don't. But the next thing I knew I had grabbed her wrist and said, "Rose, wait. I didn't come here to yell at you. I…"

I what?

I should have just let her go back to her dormitory. She already thought I was out of my mind, and I had pretty much just shouted at her for the better part of three minutes. God knows why I thought listening to her yelling would have made me snap out of whatever the hell it was that had made me realize I possibly fancied a _Weasley_. I know I'm not exactly the prime candidate for the right to judge people by their surnames, but Rose's last name had gotten her everything she needed in life. Mine just got me more problems.

Still. Maybe I'd thought that listening to Rose sounding completely pissed at me would have at least made me turn around and go back to Mia, who was going to be really ticked when she realized I'd ditched her. In fact, I probably should go back to Todd's party. I should just let Rose go.

But of course, my vocal chords decided not to listen to the silent commands my brain was giving them to shut the hell up before I actually proved Rose right that I was crazy.

"This is going to sound really strange right now, and I'm probably going to regret it," – actually, I already did regret it, because she refused to meet my eyes and probably thought I was completely intoxicated – "But… At the party tonight, with Mia… everything just felt _wrong_. And I'm pretty sure it's because… because I like someone else."

Well. I couldn't exactly take those words back.

_Screw it_, I decided.

Let her hate me.

Let her think I'm crazy or insane or whatever must be running through her head right now.

Let her shout every curse and hex she knows with her wand pressed up against my face.

I decided, in that moment, that I didn't care. I was a Malfoy. And as much as I hated my surname, we Malfoys never stopped halfway.

And so, I would go through with this.

"And I learned about two minutes ago that you can shout at me as much as you want, because I can never hate you. Because even though my dad's going to murder me if he finds out what I'm about to do… I'm going to do it anyway. I think I love you, Rose Weasley."

And then I kissed her.

Even though I had just briefly touched my lips to hers for a fraction of a second, it felt like forever. I pulled back immediately, watching the shock register on her face, her _stunning _eyes growing wide, her sharp intake of breath as she no doubt prepared to shout at me again.

Please Merlin, let her not hate me. Let her not think I'm crazy or insane. Let her not draw her wand.

And then something happened that I had been positive would _never_ happen in a million years.

Rose Weasley wrapped her arms around my neck, rising up on her toes to kiss me again.

I had virtually no coherent thought left, much less any sense of the passage of time, but if I'd had to guess, I would have said we'd been there for about ten minutes before I heard someone shout, "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Rose and I jumped apart to face an extremely confused-looking Lily Potter.

When neither of us responded, Lily continued, "Am I hallucinating, Rose, or did I just see you making out with Scorpius Malfoy in _the middle of the hallway_?"

And suddenly I had a lot more respect for Rose's cousin. Sure, I was being told off by an angry thirteen-year-old, but the way she emphasized her words made all the difference.

Lily made it seem like Rose's offense was that the public display of affection was, well, public. Her tone didn't make any inflection whatsoever at my name. It didn't seem like a big deal, but it had been a long time since I'd heard anyone mention my surname without any indication of judgment. Honestly, it was relieving.

"Rose?" Lily pressed.

"Er, yeah. That would be what you saw." Rose's voice sounded faint.

"Well, you might want to go back to the common room since James just finished showing off for Claire on the quidditch pitch and they're going to be back here in about three minutes," Lily said. "Unless, you'd like him to know about who you've been spending time with? No offense," she added, nodding to me.

"Um, bye," Rose muttered before dashing over to the portrait of the fat lady and murmuring what I could only assume was the password to the Gryffindor common room.

I turned to leave as well. I had to go back now and make an excuse to Mia, and hope she didn't press too hard with questions.

I made it about halfway down the hallway before Lily caught up with me.

"Well, it's about time," she said, tossing her light red hair over one shoulder.

"Huh?"

"You and Rose," she said simply. "It's about time."

"I—"

"Seriously, my Uncle Ron needs to get it into his head that Rose is a Gryffindor. She likes to do things people tell her she can't. And so telling her every second of her life that she should stay away from you probably wasn't a good idea. Oh, damn, James is coming. See you."

And with those words, Lily Potter left.

**A/N:** _So. That was fairly (pronounced: pretty much all) fluffy. Oh well._

_So how does everyone like Lily? I know it's a little weird that she's suddenly popping up out of nowhere (aka why this chapter worked _so _much better from Scorpius' point of view, since he didn't really know her in the first place). So yeah… more soon._

_Reviews appreciated :-)_


	15. Afterthoughts

**A/N: **_Rose's POV. _

I rubbed my eyes as I rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock – ten in the morning (damn, breakfast would be over in another half hour) – as I walked over to the bathroom, passing a snoring Harmony on the way.

I splashed water on my face, still half-asleep, while I tried to remember why I'd had the brilliant idea to stay up so late last night.

There'd been that History of Magic essay that Professor Binns had decided to kill us with. And Todd's stupid party. And Marissa telling me not to poke holes through my parchment. And then I'd shouted at Malfoy. And then…

Oh. My. God.

Malfoy had kissed me. I had _let_ him kiss me!

And then Lily had seen us… and damn it, the way Lily talked, by the time I got down to the Great Hall for breakfast the entire _school_ would know about it.

I dried my face with a towel, brushed my teeth, put on my uniform, and made an attempt to deal with my hair, all while in some kind of daze. I finally descended the spiral staircase that led to the common room. Marissa was waiting for me.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah! Of course!" I said, hoping I sounded convincing enough. There was still a chance that maybe Lily had left for the Great Hall before Marissa had gotten down to the common room. "Why shouldn't I be?"

Yes, I was getting defensive as a side-effect of lying through my teeth.

"Well, I don't know," Marissa said, "I've never seen you sleep in so late before. I was going to wake you up, but I figured you'd probably been up late." She paused to climb through the portrait hole. "Oh, I forgot to ask you. What did Malfoy want last night?"

"Oh, um," I stammered, stalling for time. "McGonagall's paper. We're meeting later today." This, I realized a second after I'd said it, was actually true.

I was going to have to sit there across the table from him, probably completely embarrassed because Lily had probably told most of the school by now.

If Malfoy hadn't done it himself. Honestly, I wouldn't put it past him to go around bragging about how he was so irresistible (or whatever he liked to call himself) that he'd even managed to hook up with a Weasley.

I almost threw up right there on the staircase. I did manage to stumble over the disappearing step that I usually knew to skip over, causing Marissa to laugh a little.

"Are you sure you're all right? And you were talking to Malfoy for a really long time." There was no accusation in her voice, just a trace of confusion.

"Er, yeah," I mumbled. "We sort of got into an argument – lots of shouting and stuff, you know." Technically, that wasn't a lie.

"And you would never let someone else win an argument," Marissa finished, sighing. "Honestly, if Malfoy wasn't such a prat I'd tell you to just let him win." I must have looked confused, because she continued, "Oh, come on. It's not like he's not attractive. He's just so obnoxious about everything that it's impossible to stand in the same room as him because his ego takes up all the space."

"He's not _that_ attra—" I started, but she cut me off.

"'Course, we're probably the only two girls in the school who wouldn't agree to go out with him if he asked. Well, us and maybe some of your cousins. And sure, everyone else would probably _say _that they wouldn't because of his family and whatever, but if you ignored the fact that his name is 'Malfoy' he could probably have about ten girlfriends a month."

"I'm not following you," I lied to Marissa, "And I honestly don't really want to right now."

Especially since we were walking into the Great Hall…

And nobody so much as glanced at me. Well, except for Lily.

I met Lily's gaze first, since she was sitting at the Gryffindor table with her eyes locked on mine. "I need to talk to you," she mouthed.

"Hang on," I told Marissa. "I'll be right back." I was somewhat amazed by how even my voice sounded. My ability to lie had definitely improved in the past three minutes. Probably because nobody knew what had happened last night between me and Malfoy.

Believe me, if they did know, _everybody_ would be staring.

And, I was willing to bet my broomstick – an incredible Firebolt 3.0, which even my dad says is a good broom – that if other people knew, Malfoy wouldn't look so calm as he talked to some of his Slytherin mates and spread jam on his toast. Not that I was watching or anything.

I sat down next to Lily. The girls she was sitting with (Nancy Holmes and Theresa Ogden) were engaged in a debate over some essay Professor Sterling had assigned, so Lily was free to talk to me without worrying about being overheard.

"He's not saying anything," she said. "At all. And I even told him that my parents wouldn't care at all if you two started going out—"

"You told him what?" I practically shouted.

"Just that my dad said not to judge people based on what their parents did or didn't do. And I don't know why he's not saying anything. But anyway, I personally think you and him would be a really cute couple."

"And I personally think you are out of your mind," I told her, turning around to leave. I'd had enough of her thirteen-year-old fantasies.

"Suit yourself," Lily shrugged. "But I _so_ call being bridesmaid at your wedding."

I ignored her, as per usual.

What was significantly more difficult to ignore were Malfoy's words from last night. _Do you know what I would give to have the kind of family you do?_ He'd asked. _I hate that you have all these people to support you when you have problems._

***

**A/N: **_Well, then, that's that. Next chapter will be working in the library with Malfoy… should be fun._

_Oh, and I found out that this fic now has over 100 reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review, because I never thought I would get so many… You guys are amazing :-) And, of course, reviews are (as always) much appreciated._

_And for everyone who's been confused about the switching POV's: The rest of the story will be in Rose's POV, except every once in a while when it works better from Malfoy's POV, i.e. when Rose isn't there (like at Todd's party) or when Rose wouldn't be thinking clearly at all (like when he kissed her). _


	16. Avoidances

I'm sure the Death Eaters could have gotten a much larger following if they had used _this_ as a form of torture.

And no, I'm not talking about the rain, although it was coming down in torrents, trapping us all inside the castle. On an ordinary day, the castle seemed enormous – seven stories tall and probably acres of space on the first floor alone – but without classes (as it was Sunday) or open windows (due to the rain), the size seemed restrictive. Although that was probably because I was avoiding the Gryffindor common room (this was because of Lily, who wouldn't shut up about flower girls and crap like that – I swear she was only doing it to annoy the hell out of me), anywhere on the lower three floors (as they were near the dungeons and therefore near the Slytherin common room, and I was avoiding Malfoy as well, for all the obvious reasons), and the Eastern side of the top two floors (because that was the area surrounding the Ravenclaw common room, and I couldn't bring myself to face Mia Reynolds. Even though she didn't know that I had done anything wrong).

Not, of course, that I had actually done anything 'wrong,' per se, but the whole… _ordeal_… with Malfoy – whom I was scheduled to work with on McGonagall's paper (_avada _me now, please) – last night, I didn't much want to run into her.

"Nice corner you've got there."

My cousins could be _so_ annoying at times. And okay, so I'd been focusing on staying out of about half the school and had somehow worked my way into facing a wall that was guarded by two suits of armor and a painting of a toad, but did they really need to bother me _now_?

It was out of this frustration (and maybe a little PMS, too) that I snapped, "Nice face you've got there. I'd hate to have to use the–" I whirled around, wand out, expecting to see Albus or maybe James backing away as I named the jinx I was about threaten.

I was _not_ expecting to see Malfoy.

Karma is officially out to get me.

"I'd rather not be hexed by you again, thanks," he said, grabbing my wand out of my hand before I could react. "McGonagall's extra credit assignment is due next week, remember?"

"Er, yeah," I said, refusing to meet his eyes. "Right. Sorry. I was just heading to the library, actually."

Malfoy didn't say anything, just set off down the hall. If he thought it strange that my idea of heading towards the library involved hiding behind suits of armor, he didn't mention it.

As he pushed open the library door, Malfoy tossed me back my wand. I was so surprised by his action that I fumbled it and had to bend down to pick it up off the floor. Great, now I got to look like a clumsy idiot in front of him. When I stood up, an amused smile was playing on his face.

"I found a book we can use for reference," he said. "I'll show you."

Um, okay. So Malfoy spent his free time doing research for McGonagall's paper. I wasn't about to complain.

He led me into a narrow aisle between bookshelves, but instead of taking down a book, he just said calmly, "Look, Rose. About last night."

And this is where he calls me a total idiot. Where I try not to cry as he tells me how _stupid_ I am for going so far out of my league as to kiss him. Where he brings up our families' abrasive history and points out that I'm a Weasley and he's a Malfoy and that we were never supposed to mix in the first place. Maybe he'll mention Mia, too. Or maybe he'll just list excuses for his behaviour. Too much alcohol at the party, maybe.

"What about it?" I snapped, completely aware that I sounded defensive.

There was a silence. Then, softly, "I meant everything that I said."

_And I learned about two minutes ago that you can shout at me as much as you want, because I can never hate you._

I stood there staring at him, stunned as I remembered his words.

_Because even though my dad's going to murder me if he finds out what I'm about to do…_

"Everything?" I finally managed.

_I'm going to do it anyway._

He looked at me, refusing to break eye contact, even to blink.

_I think I love you, Rose Weasley._

"Everything," he whispered. Then he continued, still whispering, "I want to be with you, Rose. And my dad can disinherit me for all I care, because I'm going to do this properly." Then he took a deep breath and raised his voice to a normal level. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me next Saturday, Rose?"

My dad was going to kill me. My cousins would never let me live this down. Hugo would have a heart attack. Marissa would think I was going mental.

But, for the time being, I didn't care.

"Yes," I nodded. "Yes, I would love to."

And then Scorpius may or may not have kissed me, right there in the library.

Somehow, I had a feeling that McGonagall's paper was not going to be finished today.

**A/N: **_Sorry for taking so long to update, again. But I hope this chapter was worth it… It took a while to get all the phrasing right._

_Anyway, I'm thinking of doing maybe three or four more chapters, and then wrapping this up, but you never know. I might feel like throwing in another unregistered animagus on the spur of the moment (great thing to do when you've got writer's block, by the way). _


	17. Endings

"So I was thinking that next weekend we should head to Zonko's first, because I still have to get Lizzie a birthday present to mail back home–"

"Er, Marissa," I started, not sure how to say what had to come next.

_I know you want me to help you pick out gifts for your ten-year-old sister, but remember that guy we hate? Scorpius Malfoy? Well we've kind of hooked up twice and then he asked me to Hogsmeade, so I'm going with him._

Yeah. Right. She'd probably send me to be examined for head trauma at St. Mungo's.

"Hang on a second, Rose, I just want to make sure I don't forget anything. So then after Zonko's, we can go to the Three Broomsticks, and then maybe do some more shopping."

"Marissa… I—I sort of have a date."

"Oh," her eyes widened. "That's alright. I'll bring Melody instead. Or maybe Delilah. But don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. It'll be good for you. You've been so riled up about all the Malfoy stuff – oh, damn, I've only got five minutes until Ancient Runes. See you in Transfiguration."

"See you," I answered.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Marissa exclaimed. "Who asked you out?"

This was it. The moment of truth. "Scorpius Malfoy," I mumbled.

"What the f—"

I interrupted her with something remarkably intelligent along the lines of, "He's… we're… yeah."

"Merlin," she muttered. "Are you serious?"

"Er, yes?"

For once in her life, Marissa actually appeared to be at a loss for words, until she finally managed to force out, "Your father is going to kill you."

I could barely concentrate all through herbology, even though Neville – sorry, _Professor Longbottom_ – continually corrected my technique of extracting venom from the Venomous Tentacula in Greenhouse Three. I knew that if I didn't focus I was going to be sent to the hospital wing, _again_, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to care.

I had Scorpius to think about, and Hogsmeade. I was starting to notice that Scorpius had a way of clouding over my thoughts to the point that herbology just didn't seem important anymore.

And when class ended and I caught up with him on the way to transfiguration and he took my hand in his like he didn't care that we were quite possibly the most controversial couple in the history of Hogwarts (unless you were one of the idiots who actually believed the rumors about Moaning Myrtle and Professor Binns), I smiled.

"You know," he said, bending down so he could whisper into my ear, "This is a lot easier than pretending to hate each other."

"Just because you were running out of witty insults—"

"I never run out of witty insults," he said. "I just choose when to use them."

"Translation: you were running out."

"Translation: me, you, room of requirement tonight and I'll show you what I've been spending time thinking about instead of those 'witty insults' you think I'm running out of."

Merlin's pants, did he just imply what I think he did? But, unfortunately, I had to put a damper on those thoughts.

"As much as I'd love to," I said, "We have an essay to write for McGonagall that's due next week. And we barely have an outline."

"Library, then?" he asked.

I nodded.

Then he led me into the classroom. There was a lot of whispering, probably because we were still holding hands, but I could ignore it. What I couldn't ignore was the look on McGonagall's face – eyebrows raised almost to her hairline and her mouth literally fell open.

She recovered quickly and began her lesson on turning teacups into frogs, but not before Scorpius could squeeze my hand a little tighter and smile. At me.

EPILOGUE:

"Absolutely not."

"But, Rose—"

"No," I say, insistent. "We are not naming our daughter _Pleione_."

"It's a family tradition," Scorpius starts to say, but I interrupt him.

"To name kids after stars. I know, love, but that doesn't mean we have to punish our daughter before she's even born. You of all people should know why names are so important."

He ignores that last comment. "Why are you so certain it's going to be a girl, anyway?"

"I'm not. But we've already agreed on Sirius for a boy."

"Like Sirius is any better than Pleione."

"It's a million times better," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Because my parents won't kill you for it. I wouldn't kill you for it, either."

"The real Sirius is probably throwing a fit in the afterlife, though, since there's going to be a Sirius Malfoy walking around."

"Which might be the biggest oxymoron on the planet, I know."

After a while, Scorpius says reluctantly, "Fine. No Pleione. How about Maia? That's a star."

"Maia," I say, trying it out. "Yeah, I can live with that."

"Sirius for a boy, Maia for a girl," he announces. "So, do you want to write that to our parents?"

"That's alright, you can do it. I feel a little bit of morning sickness coming on."

"No fair. You get out of _everything,_ just because you're pregnant," Scorpius complains.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you, Scorp? All's fair in love and war."

X

_A/N:_

_ This took entirely too long to post, I know, and I apologize PROFUSELY. But this is the end. This fic is FINALLY complete. _

_I was originally considering including Rose and Scorpius telling their respective parents about their relationship, but you've all read that before in almost every other RxS fic out there and besides, it's just not that interesting. You can imagine it for yourselves, if you would really like. I'm sure everyone has a great image of Ron's reaction. In my opinion, one of Rose's cousins (probably James) would find it funny to write home before Rose could tell her parents, but who knows._

_ I was going to post this chapter as two separate chapters, but both are on the short side, so I decided to just lump them together._

_I would love to think everyone who read this, who reviewed, who followed it even through the huge gaps in which I didn't post anything for months at a time. Thanks, everyone, and I hope to write more in the future… But judging by my habit of not updating at any regular rate, I should probably stick to one-shots. So expect some of those._

_ Thanks again, everyone. It's been fun._

_ ~dancinginthesunlight_


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